Purpose Pending
by Erithemaeus
Summary: Major Estal Silver wants to live a normal life. Nightmares about being an orphan during the Great War? Yes. Being the builder and founder of the world's first fully-artificial human? Check. Now he has to earn his way to a proper paycheck by teaching snotty brats about subjects that most of them would most likely ignore in the future. Easy? Nope.
1. Chapter 1

Amethyst eyes awaken to the sound of a ticking clock, a hand slamming down upon the snooze button with mere seconds to spare. Bleary amethyst eyes awaken to see a blank white room, glancing towards their scroll to check their itinerary, and their eyes widen upon seeing the Devil's work in play. All clear. Not even an inane board meeting with the upper brass. They search for a reason to the current anomaly, only to find a can of beer right beside their alarm clock. One could certainly see even a small pile of the compacted cans of beer upon the lone trash bin by the corner of the room.

Their sheets ruffle against bare skin as they step out of the bed, daily tasks being prioritized while their mind ran a mile a minute. Thanks for the General were in order for first and foremost, along with planning a curriculum in the amount of time that they have left until classes start. Still however, there was one little thing that needed to be taken care of. Their daughter in all but blood.

A white shirt, a brown jacket, and a blue overcoat with white details were the first objects to pop in their mind as they slide past the full-body mirror, a quick trip to their barebones closet enough to pick an accompanying pair of gray chinos and dark socks. As per usual, their combat boots were set aside by the door, and they lace their footwear with hours upon hours of painstaking experience at their belt. A quick rummage through the pockets of his jacket brings forth an identification card, and they tap it against the door to their room with a soft beep. The latch slides open, and the door follows a second later, drawing back and letting in the Atlesian cold into their system, but a customary shiver stifles all thoughts of cold from their body as their newly-awakened mind slowly trudges their way towards the door in front of him. A special door for a special someone, with the specific keys to the room only assigned to all but five individuals. He counts himself and as one of them.

The soft beep signals the opening protocols of the door, and he stands straight with feet at the ready just as the door to his daughter-figure's room bursts open while she tackles him with a jump.

"I missed you, Father!"

He chuckles, swinging on the balls of his ankles in order to dissipate his technically-daughter's momentum and keeping himself steady against her her quarter-ton weight. "I missed you as well, Penny." He replies with a grin while setting down his baby girl onto the hallway, ruffling her light blue hair that ran into stark contrast with her fair skin. "Are you ready for your big day?"

"I am combat ready!"

"And...?"

"Socially-ready as well, Father!" She beams, and he couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at the pure smile that she gives him. "Now let us go to Headmaster Ironwood's office for our morning briefing!"

"Very well, then. Lead the way, Penny." He motions with a hand, his daughter in all but blood taking the lead with a beautiful smile on her face that was so much better than last month's results. He knew that giving him a little more time to polish Atlas' greatest project would yield more benefits than risks. Although it certainly didn't help that the good General-slash-Heamaster is on good terms with him.

He follows Penny with hands in the pockets of his overcoat, yawning at the first stray sunbeams that had stumbled into the facility from the outside. Soldiers idled by, giving the two of them their respectful salutes, while most of the other staff that worked in the facility merely gawked at the eccentric pair that made their way down to their superior's office. Other individuals who didn't know their places turned their noses at the pair, while those who understood their situation a little bit better hastily dragged their nearest conversation party back to their last locations lest they be responsible for demolishing a quarter of the entire facility under ruble. Overall, he could say that the short trip to the General's office was uneventful. Just how he liked it.

"Penny", he called out, stopping the girl in her tracks just as she was about to slam open the door towards the General's office. "Not too loud, alright? It's early in the morning, and I'm sure the General would like his quiet for today as well. Got that?"

She nods, a serious expression on her face. "Yes, Father. Changing into Stealth Mode–"

"–That's not really necessary", he cuts in, inwardly letting out a sigh of relief at not being responsible for epileptic flashbacks for the morning. "Penny, just open the door and say hello. I tell you that it works wonders in any situation. Unless if you're in a designated combat zone."

"Roger. Opening door with breaching charge–"

"Penny. Estal."

"General Ironwood, sir!" He turns around in that instant and freezes, finding his superior glancing towards his with amusement written all over they face. Said amusement quickly turns to panic when they spot the breaching device in Penny's hand, and they turn towards him with a stormy expression on their face. One that promised pain and death if he could not produce a valid explanation.

"Major Estal, explain."

"I added that in Penny's arsenal for close quarters combat while in an area potentially filled with civilians, sir." He replied as quickly as he could, with Penny's hand shifting back over said breaching tool to conceal it from the General's view. His smile was watery, his posture less so – already back into his usual slouch while his mind whirled to find a way out of the conversation. A few seconds later, he internally apologized to his daughter-figure. "And Penny said that you had a briefing for us today."

His superior looks at him in shame, and he glances away from the judgmental stare as the General turns towards Penny. "Is this true?"

"One hundred twenty-three percent accurate, General Ironwood, sir!" She cheerily replies with another salute and a grin, causing the General to hum while turning back towards Estal with a considering expression on their face. He inwardly winces, both at the glare shot at him for 'infecting' Penny with his... mannerisms, and the sheer shame of throwing the cheerful teen under the bus.

"Very well. You are excused, Ms. Silver. Take a tram to Atlas Academy. The welcoming ceremony starts in about an hour and thirty minutes."

"Roger, General Ironwood, sir!" Penny salutes once more before sprinting off towards the nearest exit, leaving the two men standing awkwardly outside the General's office. After a brief moment of silence, the General clears his throat, prompting him to awkwardly shuffle to the side as the General proceeds to initiate the biometric scans needed to open the door to their office. Within seconds, the door slides open with the whir of machinery, and warm air blows into the hallway like a cool summer breeze.

"Come in, Mr. Silver. We have much to discuss about your latest... employment."

He couldn't scamper into the General's office quick enough, ignoring the dry look that their Schnee assistant gave him as he took the spot nearest to the heater and began the tedious process of warming himself up. Idle conversation filled in the gaps, nonetheless. "I thought that you said to never let me go near a lectern." He begins, glancing at the General out of the corner of his eye as they settle into their leather chair, the wide desk in front of them offset by the ludicrously large pile of paperwork gathering dust. "What changed?"

"Penny's education, for one." The General replies, causing him to awkwardly laugh and glance to the side while the Schnee aide tried their best to keep the calm expression on their face. "While she has inherited your... mannerisms, for better or for worse, I can't help but see that she has learned a lot from under your tutelage."

"So you want me to take up Negotiations 101? I thought that it's the Schnee's subject over there." He nudges his chin towards the aide's direction, rubbing his hands while moving closer to the heater. "Besides, she's better at everything."

"Except for combat."

"All except for combat." He reiterates, much to the General's hidden smile and his aide's twitching eye. Realization crosses his mind a second later, and he pales at the future task that was set for him. "No. I am _not _teaching combat class. I don't want the poor schmucks to be traumatized, as much as I want to see such a thing happen."

"You're not." The General replies, a genial smile on their face while they lean back to afford him some much-needed space. "Instead, you are going to be teaching them the theoeticals. Everything from simple machines to field-stripping a service rifle falls through your purview. Granted, have the right to use practical exams as well in order to gauge student ability, but you have to run it through me first."

"Oh come on..."

"Unless you want to teach combat class alongside Miss Schnee...?"

He glances towards said woman, her eyes oddly entranced by the bowie knife in her hands. A small smile of terror forms on his face as he turns towards the General with watery eyes.

"Please take me away as far from her as possible." He pleads. For the price of a burned pride, the General agrees, leaning forward and extending a hand across the table. He rushes over to shake it, but in his haste finds out that he had begun shaking his superior's cybernetic hand.

He tries to keep the pained expression out of his face, but sadly fails.

"Welcome to Atlas Academy, Major Estal Silver, former Specialist and Atlesian Scientist. It is good to have your name added onto this Academy's roster." The General says with a smile, before yanking him close and dropping their voice into a cold whisper. "If I hear from any faculty members that you are up to your usual antics, or if I find _any _trace of nepotism..."

The General trailed off. They didn't exactly need to, since he could picture the events that would occur to him if he ever breaks the rules that the General gave him. Sadly, he was going to be on his best behavior. "Crystal clear, General Ironwood sir..."

"Good. Now get to the Academy. You have less than an hour to get there."


	2. Chapter 2

This is one of the most banal things to occur during his stay in Atlas Academy, Flint Coal decided. Even though this was just the first week of classes and thus were excused from most of the annoying subjects that didn't have anything to do with becoming a Huntsman, there exists a certain line where an unspoken rule is broken. A three-hour lecture class at six in the morning? Attendance required? All of this just before combat class without even a break in between?

It was official. Whoever this 'Estal Silver' person was, they needed a tuba to their ear. The whacking kind of 'tuba to the ear'. While a part of his rational mind was suggesting that this was the first real test that they were going to get during their entire first week in Atlas Academy, a more emotional part of their mind – the same part responsible for the 'whacking with a tuba' suggestion – put forth a good theory. That whoever their teacher was, they were a complete and utter a-hole.

His partner snores on their shared table, a frustrated sigh coming out of his lips. Checking his watch only to find out that their professor was late for _thirty minutes already _was no substitute for the amount of annoyance that his partner's snoring had in his mind. Even if he wanted to join her adventures in dreamland as well.

More time passed, and the rest of the class began shaking off their sleepiness and started chatting and gossiping about their new teacher. No one knew who he was, save for a pair of girls by the back who seemed keen on declaring whatever it was that their professor did before the start of the school year.

"I heard that he's a Specialist..."

"Yeah, and he's had about fifty confirmed kills. Twelve of them were from his fists, and others were from explosives..."

"I thought that the Major was good at long-range sniping..."

"That, along with stealth and sabotage. You saw the news two months ago when that warehouse by the port burned down?"

A Major, and a Specialist at that. He was expecting an old man in a stuffy old suit with decorated pauldrons bragging about their achievements for everyone to know, even if was easier to just tell them what he learned outright. Not... Not...

... Not whoever this was! "Right, good morning class. My name is Major Estal Silver, former Atlesian Specialist now working as an engineer under the Atlesian Military..."

First off, their teacher was awfully young. He barely even looked older than twenty-seven, yet his hair was all white, and he had some glasses on to draw attention away from their left eye, having some slight scars from what could only be claw wounds. It was tacky, he was pretty sure that it was fake, and he was sure that this... whoever _this _clown is supposed to be isn't the one that would be teaching their class.

"So, using the curriculum that I had to rush last night and I slept in because of that, the first topics that we will be discussing are about–"

"Sir–"

_\- Bang._

His ears rang while his hands searched for his hat, finding a large bullet hole in its new home on the table behind him. Amethyst eyes glared at him balefully behind a pair of glasses, and he immediately froze as he recognized the gun currently aimed at where his hat was supposed to be. The figure of the distinctive .762 Muton Silverback revolver was enough to make him snap to attention. Not only was it the gun that signified a Specialist, but it also weighed five kilos, fired a lower-end anti-tank round with every shot that can kill a fully-armored Ursa in one hit, and the manuals specifically stated that it was meant to be fired with two hands on the handle, in a stable firing position, and shot at a target at no less than five meters.

His professor shot the damn thing with one arm while slouched. And it definitely felt like his ears were still ringing.

"Judging by the sudden jaw drops around the room, it seems like you don't know who I am. Any show of hands?" His professor nodded to a girl in the back. "Introduce yourself to the class first."

"Ciel Soleil, sir. You're a former Specialist, and now our teacher."

"You may sit down." His professor twirled the gun once and sheathed it within the folds of his overcoat in one move. He was sure that the gun still weighed five kilos. "Now that I have gotten your attention, let's talk about something 'relevant' to your studies in being a 'Huntsman'."

A nudge on an elbow caught his attention. "Hey Flynt, who's this guy? Why does he have a Silverback? And what happened to your hat?"

"Not now Neon, I'm trying to focus." He replied back, turning his attention back to the front only to meet their professor's gaze. Sometimes he wished that he didn't seat at the front.

"You. Explain how the grooves in the outer casing of a Silverback work in stabilizing recoil and the rifling of a round."

He all but scrambles to stand, mind whirring into high gear as he tries to make sense of what the question was. Grooves? Outer casing of a Silverback revolver? Rifling?

Neon snickers beside him at his current state. Their professor turns their gaze towards her as she immediately falls silent and tries to curl herself into a ball. 'Try', being the keyword. "Answer the question as well. Both of you shall remain standing until you have answered the question."

She stands up as well, glaring at him as if it was his fault that she was standing as well. The rest of the class snickers at the cat Faunus' situation, yet their professor's glare suddenly blankets the entire room as they fire another shot of their Silverback into the floor. The bullet is buried into the floor like a nail.

"All of those who laughed, stand up as well. _Nobody _won't be sitting down unless they answer my question. Everyone understands?"

They didn't dare move from their current position, even as most of the class stands up along with them. In response, their professor only grins.

"Good." He cooed. "Now that we're done with the outline for this semester, we shall start with our first lesson: basic mechanics."


	3. Chapter 3

/-/

Major Estal Silver, orphan of the Great War, blinked upon hearing a tap from his window. Rising out of his comfortable chair, he turns towards the lone window of his office, finding a small black crow perched on the windowsill, shivering while rattling its feathers at the cold. With a sigh, he opens the latch and let's the crow fly on through, closing the door an instant later when he felt the frost began creeping up his skin. He turns around to see a shivering man on the floor, hugging the heater in the room like a man starved for warmth, and he chuckles as he retrieves a blanket from underneath his desk and throws it over to the newcomer.

"There's a reason as to why you don't see a lot of birds around here, Qrow." He quips, snickering at the glare shot by the newcomer before pressing a button on the intercom. "Silver here. Need a refill on some tea for a guest."

A groan could be heard on the other side of the line, and he snickers even more as the voice resigns himself to a situation that they don't want to be in. _"Tell Qrow that I'll be there within an hour."_

"Will do, sir." He smoothly replies before turning back towards his guest, now splayed out over a couch with a blanket wrapped around their body, somehow having the dexterity to consume a flask of liquor after flying through the frigid Atlesian cold. "The General's going to be here in about an hour. Make yourself at home. Or sleep. I don't care, as long as you make sure that you don't spread the scent of alcohol everywhere in my office."

"Office?" His guest slurred, barking in laughter at the thought. "You have an _office_? What did Ironwood do to you in order to make you give in?"

"Not 'what', Qrow, but 'who'." He sighs, hearing the loud footsteps coming from outside his door, and he stores the quizzes inside his desk before glaring towards his guest. "Be on your guest behavior, Qrow. I'm expecting a guest."

"Really? Who could that be–?"

"Father, I have arrived at your office!" The door bursts open, and Major Estal Silver chuckles and leans back against his seat as his daughter in all but blood barges into his office with another person in tow. Qrow raises an eyebrow. His daughter's friend drops her jaw. In turn, he slides back on his office chair just as his surrogate daughter all but jumps into his arms with a grin.

As expected, his chair snaps, unable to bear the weight of two-hundred fifty kilograms of force in less than a tenth of a second, and a groan escapes his lips as he finds himself concussed while being slowly strangled by his surrogate daughter. "Penny... Need to breathe..."

"Sorry!" She gasps, quickly retracting her arms as she stands back and sheepily backtracks a few paces. "Uh, I made a friend...?"

"Great!" He replies in turn, ears still ringing while trying his best smile and give a thumbs up. A few seconds pass before he manages to push himself back up, dusting off the dirt in his clothing before letting curious eyes rove over his surrogate daughter's newfound 'friend'. Dark skin, with a rattled expression on her face as she tried to keep herself in a salute. Yes, it would seem like the General had chosen a good partner to balance out his surrogate daughter's... oddness.

"I didn't catch your name, sorry."

"C-C-Ciel Soleil, sir!" Penny's friend immediately replies, the sparkles from her eyes enough to make him grimace and glance away from the look of pure adoration. "I didn't know that you're Penny's father, uh... Uhm... It's nice to meet you, sir!"

"Nice to meet you as well, Ms. Soleil." He returns with a thin smile and a nod. He was sure that her brain stopped working. "Penny, why don't you go and hang out with your friend for a bit? I need to have a talk with my guest."

His surrogate daughter glances at the drunk sprawled onto the couch, and forms a suspicious glint in her eyes as she turns back towards her surrogate father." Are you sure?"

A chuckle escapes his lips even as he ruffles his surrogate daughter's hair. "Don't worry. As much as he looks like a bum, he's as harmless as a fly."

"Hey!"

"Or at least he is, compared to me." He corrects, grinning at the scowl on his guest's face as he ruffles his surrogate daughter's hair a little bit more. "I'll call you if I can't handle the situation. You alright with that?"

Penny nods, and gives her surrogate father a light hug before dragging back her newfound friend out of his office. The main distraction done, he shuts the door and bolts it shut, performing a cursory sweep around the area and destroying all sorts of electronic devices hidden away in crevices between insignificant metal panels. An application of his... gifts, so to speak.

Once he was done, he turns toward his guest once more, leaning against his desk with arms crossed. Gone was the fatherly expression, gone was the exasperated idol. All that was left was a weapon unsheathed and pointed towards an unseen enemy. A hound on a chain ready to snap.

"I assume that you're doing this since communications are compromised."

His guest nods, taking another swig out of their alcoholic flask, before turning towards him with a displeased expression on their face.

"Amber, the Fall Maiden. She was attacked."


End file.
